


Right Here in the Heat of Mind and Body

by complexConfetti



Series: Learning to write Smut with the Prequels Gang! (+some original characters) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin is a bitch-baby, But not too much plot, Dominant Padmé Amidala, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Padmé Amidala, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jedi Padmé Amidala, Light Bondage, Master/mistress, Misuse of the Force, Multi, Non-Graphic Smut, Padmé is a badass bitch, Poly Relationship, Porn With Plot, Smut, Submissive Anakin Skywalker, Switch Obi-Wan Kenobi, The Force, Wow Anakin is totally not a slave guys, obianidala, shes a jedi queen and senator, smut writing practice, this is literally just Padme and Obi-wan messing with Anakin until he can't take it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22825102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/complexConfetti/pseuds/complexConfetti
Summary: Padmé and Obi-wan were always this way to their darling Anakin, but tonight he needed it more than ever.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Learning to write Smut with the Prequels Gang! (+some original characters) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640917
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82





	Right Here in the Heat of Mind and Body

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [wicked thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6261721) by [imaginarykat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginarykat/pseuds/imaginarykat). 



> Before beginning, I want to say thank you for wanting to read my smut writing practice! I was heavily inspired by the beautiful writing of Imaginarykat in Wicked Thing and it inspired me to try and make my smut writing better, spawning this beauty of a thing. I hope you enjoy my first post on AO3!!!

* * *

The nights on Coruscant were often quiet, especially within the walls of the Jedi Temple. Though in truth, it could never really be quiet with the constant thrum of the force surrounding Anakin at all times. He could always tell where all the masters were; both a blessing and a curse he supposed. But tonight was a change in the program. Usually, he would just stay in his room, messing about with some droid parts and such, but recently there had been a section of peace within the war. Or would it be considered a standstill? A lunch break? Either way, no one was fighting and there was time to calm down and rethink.

So instead of his own room, here he was, at Padme’s housing in the senate building, spending time with mostly acquaintances, some friends and his own Master Obi-wan. A holomovie had been playing in the background yet no one was really paying attention to it, more attached to the conversation that was happening. Aside from Anakin, that is. He was always distracted when Padme and Obi-Wan were both in the room. It seemed like sneaky glances and small touches were all he needed to get hot and bothered. Just to get away, Anakin had offered to clean everyone’s plates, saying that it was a nice thing to do and that he didn’t mind. A warmth in the back of his head told him that Obi-wan knew what he was doing; Anakin forced it out. He didn’t need that warmth right now, not with the number of people that were in the room that he didn’t actually know. 

Gradually, and pretty slowly might he add, he scrubbed at the plates and dried them, half-heartedly listening to the conversation in the background. There was a couple of lingering sexual jokes, everyone in the room knew that it was against the Jedi code to get attachments and have sexual relations and yadda-yadda-yadda but, who really cared? Certainly not _anyone_ in the room. The towel in his hands was slightly damp as he dried the final plate, before hearing the passing comment “So what I’m getting is that Anakin is your slave?”

There was a loud crash as the plate Anakin was holding fell the short distance back into the sink, thankfully still intact. He turned on his heels, gripping the towel in his hands so tightly he felt the water begin to seep out. “I am not their slave!” He knew they didn’t mean it in the literal sense, he _knew_ their meaning was not Tatooine slave, he knew _exactly_ what kind of slave they were insinuating. He felt burning heat rise to the back of his neck, creeping its way to his cheeks. 

“Ani, are you completely sure about that?” Padme’s smooth voice - _heavenly_ voice - resounded in the room and his head, but he defied it, crossing his arms over his chest and looking, or rather burning his gaze straight through the front door. He didn’t speak a word back, both feeling like he had _nothing_ to say and _everything_ to say all at once. Silly as it was, childish as it was, he wanted that part of his life to stay locked away. He stayed defiant even when a combined warmth of two entered his mind, calming his tensed muscles. He wasn’t sure why everyone suddenly went silent and stole a gaze back at the rest of the room. His eyes widened when he heard two in sync clicks of fingers, dropping the towel to the ground. “Anakin,”

“On your knees,”

No questions asked, he fell directly to the ground, ignoring the sting in his knees and locking his hands behind his back. It was if his mind had completely blacked out, his only goal to follow the order given to him. It took him only a couple of seconds later to clear his clouded mind and realise the instinct that he had acted on. He let out an exasperated ‘force kriffing damn it!’, causing a small amount of laughter to erupt from back at the sofas. He pushed himself up from the floor, a little wobbly and a little more embarrassed than he cared to fully admit. The heat that was once on his neck had more than definitely made its way onto his face. His fingers rubbed at his eyes before crossing his arms again. “That wasn’t funny…”

“Sure it was, but more than anything it shows just how _obedient_ you are to the people you hold dear,” _hold dear_ , Anakin would give anything to see one of the other Masters finally recognise why ‘no attachments’ was a horribly stupid idea. Give anything to catch one of them showing literally any affection instead of acting like primitive droids without emotion. He longed for the day that they realise attachments make you _stronger_. Or at least, it made sense in his head - and apparently Obi-wan’s as well considering just how open he was being about all of this. Anakin took some time to process what his master had just said, but in the end, all he could do was pout childishly and refuse to take a seat back with the group.

That was until the subtle pull and heat of the force crept back into his mind for the third time that evening. He tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, still trying to refuse their pull however realising it was two against one, and they could win him over no matter how hard he tried. Not that it truly mattered, if it weren’t for all the others, he’d still be on his knees. As the warm, calming feeling of the force steadily increased, he felt himself slipping further and further. His body released tension like it was nothing, even his pout couldn’t survive the battle. The pair must’ve noticed his steady fall into the force, and retracted from the connection, leaving Anakin feeling cold and maybe just the slightest bit bothered by their antics. He rolled his eyes, getting the picture, they wanted him back with the group. That was clear enough as it stood. 

* * *

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch, aside from all the comments thrown Anakin’s way for the ‘entertainment’ he had given them. He still wasn’t over that. Still not over it to the point where he could barely focus on much else. Not the holomovie, not the conversation, not even when Padme scooted closed to him on the couch. They must have noticed, noticed just how distracted he was, just how much he needed a little bit of _something_ right about now. 

Or maybe they had noticed and just decided not to act? That is something they would do. Scratch that, it’s something they _loved_ doing. He had kept his hands in his lap, hopefully covering just enough that the position didn’t look too obvious. He didn’t really know how long he’d been waiting, maybe an hour? Maybe only a couple of minutes? In his head it didn’t matter, it had already felt like he was waiting aeons. He was tense again, uncomfortable, surely that would bring his current situation to their attention. Padme had left Anakin’s side at some point, he was pretty unsure as to when, but he also noticed that only a small handful of the guests were still here, and they seemed to be having their own conversation. Lost in their own zone. And as it turned out, none of them were all too force sensitive. Maybe that's why the others left, they couldn't deal with just how much tension he was projecting through the force.

Good, he didn’t want them here anymore. He was impatient, a bad virtue for a Jedi who was supposed to be ultimately the most patient being in the whole kriffing galaxy. Then came the warmth, again, much stronger than before. He had to hold back a sigh as he felt calm wash over him. His eyes fluttered closed as he leaned back into the couch, drinking in the feeling of his mind being calmed, the knots of tension in his muscles being kneaded away. It was at this time that he could actually think, though still not to the best of his ability. He realised just how badly he wanted those last few people to get up and leave, let him be alone with Padme and Obi-wan. He stifled a moan at the feeling of a misuse in the force, a misuse that ghosted over the one place he didn’t want noticed while strangers were around. But still a nice feeling misuse. 

“Why so tense, Anakin? Something you wish to share?” Obi-wan seemed to have gotten closer to Anakin since the last time he checked in with reality. Anakin could feel his hot breath ghost his neck, instantly wishing that there was something else around his throat right now. He took a sneaky glance at the last few guests; contemplated his decision. As much as he wanted this, he didn’t want anyone else there. He slowly shook his head before feeling yet another, stronger phantom touch exactly where he wanted it. His movement stuttered and his leg began to bounce, trying to keep it contained. He could do this, he could keep calm, he could—

“I know you’re lying Anakin, I can see right through it,” he strengthened his hand position, even moving some of his robes to cover up. Nothing could possibly be worse than being hot and bothered like this in front of strangers. Padme returning only caused Anakin more problems. She noticed his demeanour right away, giving in to a small smirk that made Anakin’s head spin even more than it already was, swirling into the warmth of the force. 

Being a senator came with its perks, she knew how to talk her way with anyone, and adding the force on top of that meant she rarely failed to talk her way out of situations. The remaining three guests got up to leave, accompanied by the queen herself and Obi-wan took this as a perfect time to begin. He gently grasped at Anakin’s right shoulder, pulling him into his master’s lap; Anakin let out an audible sigh - even the slightest of touches sent shivers through his veins. He leaned back into Obi-wan’s chest, still keeping his hands locked in his lap refusing to let go. The hand that had pulled Anakin into place soon ran up his neck to land on his cheek; Obi-wan’s thumb gently swiped over his bottom lip. With a wild rampant mind, Anakin took his master’s thumb into his mouth and leaned into the touch of his hand. 

“You are needy, aren’t you? Were we too harsh on you Anakin?” Obi-wan’s hot breath tickled his neck alongside the subtle scratch from his beard. Anakin shivered, finally opening his eyes even if they were half-lidded. Padme sat in front of him, her once perfectly done up hair now cascading down her shoulder in perfect curls. She slid her hands up from his calves to his thighs, pulling herself even closer to him and forcing his legs apart. Still, despite it all, he kept his hands locked in their coverup position. At the appearance of Padme, Obi-wan pulled his thumb from Anakin’s lips and he longed for _more_. 

“Answer the question Ani,” She said in an intoxicatingly sweet tone. His breathing was heavy and he took in a sharp breath when he felt Obi-wan’s lips plant a soft kiss just under his ear. He swallowed harshly, trying to calm his breathing and gather his thoughts enough to speak.

“Yes master, yes mistress,” He said, feeling Obi-wan’s hand slide from his cheek and dig underneath his robes to touch his bare chest. His heartbeat was almost as loud in his ears as the force was in his head. “I don’t like this being shared with others, I like it just being about us,”

A soft smile appeared on Padme’s lips as she grasped at his chin, copying Obi-wan’s earlier move of swiping her thumb over his bottom lip. A sharp sting from teeth nipping at his neck caused Anakin’s expression to contort and he choked out a moan, his fists clenching so hard his nails might’ve drawn blood. He pushed further back into Obi-wan, opening up more of his neck for his master to use. Padme’s grip on his chin tightened, pulling his head back down to look at her. The first thing he noticed was how her smile had turned to a smirk. “Does our fun upset you?” Anakin tried to shake his head as a response but Padme wasn’t having it. “Use your words Anakin.”

Obi-wan just continued the assault of his neck, leaving small red marks from the nape to the front and everywhere in between. “No mistress, not at all,” He watched as Padme’s hands crept to his arms, wrapping her fingers around his wrists and beginning to lightly pull them apart. He tensed up, body almost refusing the movement to happen. She tilted her head and the force once again entered his mind, taking him by surprise. “Oh hell…” he choked out, allowing his body to refocus on the pleasure swirling in his head. The moment that he realised what had happened, his hands had been moved to his sides. To stop him from moving again, she gripped at his hips, blocking the direct movement of his hands. She moved her fingers along, only allowing for a slight touch yet it still made a whine erupt from Anakin’s throat. 

He was feeling so many things all at one, the warmth of the force tangling in his mind, the heat of bodies pressed against his own, the ghost feelings and the tiny nips at his neck and earlobes. He wanted _more._ When he tried to move to pull her hand back to give him that satisfaction, he felt two arms link around his elbows, paralysing them in place. He let out a small cry in frustration, flexing his fingers in and out. “Please,” he called in an exasperated tone. 

“Please what? You aren’t giving us much to go on Anakin,” Obi-wan’s voice was hot in his ear and the phantom feeling of his hand on his chest was still warm. He wanted to respond, but his mind went blank; he could barely even remember what words were. It was made worse when the warmth of the force retracted from his mind completely. He was so incredibly _frustrated_ , so frustrated that he felt as if he could _cry_. He lifted his head to look to the ceiling, feeling Padme pull at the waistband of his pants. He tried to wiggle his arms free only to feel them get pulled back, a harsh pressure keeping them stuck in place behind him. The tips of his fingers felt the scratchy yet soft fabric of his master’s robes but he just couldn’t grip anything. He felt Obi-wan’s arms retract from him, forcing another cry in defiance to push through his lips. “Goodness Anakin, being needy, defiant and bratty all at once? Should we just stop altogether until you do as you’re told?”

Anakin whined, feeling frustrated tears appear in the corners of his eyes. He hung his head low, watching as even Padme retracted her hands. “No, please!” His cry was followed by a few strained whines and staggered breaths in.

“Please what, Ani?” Padme’s voice was strong, even when saying as non-threatening a nickname as ‘Ani’. He was at the tipping point, trying to speak through the force rather than feel a sense of embarrassment from saying it out loud. “No, Anakin. Use. Your. Words.” She made an emphasis of every word, it wasn’t something she usually felt the need to do but Anakin guessed that even her own patience was running thin with him tonight.

He hadn’t realised that he was holding his breath in until he let it all out in a cry. “Please master, please mistress, I want to be touched, I need to come, I can’t handle it anymore, please, please, please!” crimson heat rose to his face; he took in deep shaky breath after deep shaky breath.

“You see Anakin, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Everything came flooding back, from 0 to 100 almost instantly. That deep heat of the force intertwined with his head and thoughts, the feeling of hands here, there and everywhere - needless to say, he was _very_ vocal about how much he craved this, how much he felt in desperate _need_ for this. The belt holding his robes in place was soon pulled from his waist and it made a light sound as it hit the floor. One hand pushed apart the robes while another began to add pressure around his throat. It wasn't enough to stop the airflow, but _force_ did it feel good. He felt his pants being pulled down his hips and acted - almost on instinct - by lifting himself up a bit.

“You’re being so good now Ani, is this because you’re getting what you wanted?” Anakin took in a sharp breath at the feeling of fingers curling around him. The whine that soon followed sounded more like a laugh than anything else and a smile appeared on his lips. He was overcome by the feeling of immense pleasure his body went through from the smallest of touches. He threw his head back to lean on Obi-wan’s shoulder, the hand around his throat tightening a small amount before leaving. He didn’t care. Teeth nipped and bit at the skin of his neck, making the red marks turn a deep shade of purple. He gasped for every movement that Padme made, she knew all too well the movements that made him tick. Thumb sliding over the tip, twisting a closed fist with the _slightest_ bit of pressure, even lightly dragging her nails up from base to tip, all of it sent shivers down Anakin’s back.

He felt the deafening heat of the shared bond between the three of them wash over his whole body; like fire it caused goosebumps and the hair on his neck to stand straight. Everything felt so good, perfect, _obscene_ . Padme picked up the pace as Obi-wan stifled his moans with a kiss. Anakin not only allowed for all access but damn well _welcomed_ it allowing his master's tongue to do whatever the hell it wanted to him. Anakin followed his lead, eyebrows knitted together and his wrists struggling harshly against the force. He could feel a buildup of heat in the pit of his gut, a buildup of heat in his own mind. A knot slowly becoming tighter and tighter, fraying at the edges ready to snap. Anakin forced his hips upward a little after Padme had slowed her pace, and a guttural groan pushed through his lips despite the other pair of soft, pink lips closing over his own.

She slowed almost to a stop, going staggeringly slowly and a white burning heat pooled both in the corners of his eyes and in the pit of his gut. “Do you want me to go faster?” Her tone made her sound like she was talking to a child, but Anakin didn’t mind at all, he _enjoyed it_ too much. Obi-wan pulled away, just enough that Anakin could speak. But he wasn’t having it. He tried to lean back in, only to feel the pinprick sting of Obi-wan taking a fistful of his hair and pulling him back.

“Ah, ah, ah~” a sing-song call of denial was what it was; a playful one at that. “All questions must be answered, I was even being nice and letting you speak,” Anakin once again tried to lean forward just to get pulled back again. “How disrespectful,” He heard a short, sultry giggle come from Padme, hand still moving at a snail's pace. He felt his toes curl every time another short-lived wave of please sped through his nerves.

A hiss spilt from his lips before his answer had time to escape and he let out another whine-come-laugh. He leaned his head down a little, just to be yanked up again and all his mind could come up with was a quiet ‘ow’. “Please mistress, I would love if you could go faster,”

“If that’s what you say,” she squeezed her hand around him before beginning her assault on his senses, going much faster than he expected her to go. The string of moans he let spill was profane, followed closely by the breathy words of ‘thank you, mistress’. His words of gratitude were unable to continue as Obi-wan recapture the lost territory of his lips; hot and salacious lips on red and swollen ones. He felt the press of another mouth placing kisses and bites across his exposed chest, Padme’s pace never fluctuating. She hummed into his skin, forcing herself deeper into Anakin’s mind and causing it to spin in a wonderful dance. He was scattered but knew and felt _everything_ that was happening, he could recall each and every small brush of a finger against his robes to all the hot breaths and strong grips.

Padme was unrelenting, a filthy smile playing on her lips as she kissed and bit at the skin of Anakin's chest. “Tell us when you’re getting close,” he let out a gasp of affirmation, knowing that the knot was sure to break at any point; server itself from its counterparts. She twisted her hand over the tip, making a moan almost the pitch of a scream to find its way through the cage of Obi-wan’s lips. It was at this point he felt a tear roll down his cheek; so overcome with pleasure that his body’s way of dealing with it was to cry. His master pulled Anakin away, thumbing away the wetness on his cheek.

“Does it feel _that_ good, hmm?”

“Yes master, yes it does,” his mind was finding it hard to make his words comprehensible. He let a loud raspy growl push itself out from his throat feeling one tear, two tears, three tears, four, all fall from his eyes and staining his cheeks. “Mother kriffing _hell_!” 

Padme left a stripe of saliva running up his chest before sinking her teeth into the soft flesh of his exposed neck. “What would the council say if they could see you right now, huh? Find you disrespecting their rules and _enjoying_ it so much that you cry?” All the tumultuous turmoil coursing through his veins was his own personal effort to hold off until the last possible moment that he could. But as the heat of the force grew stronger and stronger in his head - the combined efforts of two - he could barely even see directly in front of him.

“Master, mistress, I’m so close,” he said, strained and unruly, his safety net of hiding completely cut free. Obi-wan’s grip in his hair tightened, pulling him back to look at the ceiling. He hadn’t know why, but as lips closed around him he realised. He let out low, stuttered moans, his expression contorting in an intricate puzzle of strained pain and obscene pleasure. The way that Padme and Obi-wan could do this to him was incredible. The night went from the slightest of touches to the scratching of nails and biting of teeth. He was _doubtless_ and positively _drowning_ in every wave of their bond that he fell into. As she tongued a final stripe, from base to tip, the knot snapped, so frayed from the tension of the night; the force’s heat was searing hot in his head and body. It felt _incredible_ . It felt like unarguable _bliss_.

Anakin heaved in and out, his breaths as audible as he had been for the past however long they had been lying there on the couch. His mind was cloudy yet clear and his chest moved up and down, stuttering with every pleasure-high giggle that he let pass his lips. His arms fell limp, finally freed from the pressure of the force surrounding his wrists. It felt like a millennia before his eyes fluttered open once more, the ability to see coming back to him at too slow a pace for his liking. Padme still looked as beautiful as she did when they began, not a hair out of place or even a drop of anything lewd on her to be seen; he had to blink a couple times to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. How could she still look like an angel after having done the work of a nymphomaniac? Anakin was unsure that he’d ever know. “Thank you, Master, Thank you, Mistress,”

Still, however, there were a couple of things he was _entirely_ sure about. He was tired, his body felt numb, and he was going to need some new robes.

* * *


End file.
